


Home Cooking

by bitter_edge



Category: Ozmafia!! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Food, M/M, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 02:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14844029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitter_edge/pseuds/bitter_edge
Summary: Scarlet steps to stand a little closer to you--enough that your shoulders touch, before he dips the wooden spoon he'd been using to cook into the tomato sauce. "...Actually, this might need some more pepper," he mutters. Still smiling, you dutifully you reach for the pepper grinder, and somewhere in the back of your mind is a thought about how nice it is to feel used to working in the kitchen together.





	Home Cooking

Scarlet tiptoes towards the pantry of the Oz Mansion sometime around midnight, with handgun at the ready. He's expecting to see some sort of trespasser who was able to get inside silently, somehow, without alerting anyone else. The idea of it makes him exhausted already, but he's the only one up right now. He's dealt with worse than this before. 

I mean, that's the only thing it could be, right? When you hear noises in your pantry, at 3 in the morning? Raccoons can't pick locks. He walks closer to the entrance and hears the sound of... a knife on a chopping board?

He clears his head of the confusion following that, and walks inside...

...only to holster his gun, at the sight of you cutting up tomatoes as carefully as you can. Scarlet can tell you're trying your best; he's seen that concentrated expression lots of times by now. 

There's a little skip of his heart as he thinks about that--it hasn't been very long, but he already has a home here with you--but he decides to stop before his heart can do any other funny things. Instead, he waits for you to put the knife down before he knocks on the door to let you know he's here.

"H-huh?!" 

"What in the world are you doing, so late at night?" He steps into the kitchenette. 

"Oh, Scarlet! Ahaha, this is, um..." You find yourself standing in front of the tomatoes, feeling embarrassed. Scarlet's probably already seen it, but you're just not sure how he's going to react--wait, actually, maybe he'll get mad? "...I'm sorry!"

"Sorry... er, this is weird, but don't worry. It's fine." Oh, okay. He leans onto the counter, eyeing the tomatoes still sitting on the cutting board (his brow furrows. "...You're making spaghetti, aren't you. You are going to throw the sauce in the blender, right?"

No point in hiding it from him. "Yes. Wait, is that how you get it to be so smooth when you make it?" Not that you really want to hide it, anyway. You turn away from Scarlet to stir the now-softened noodles into the boiling water. 

Scarlet lets his thoughts wander for a bit. It certainly is late, and he certainly is sleepy, but...

"S-Scarlet? You don't have to help, it's okay...!"

"I know I don't have to help you." The young man turns his face away from you. "But I do want to spend time with you, so let me, okay? I'm awake now, anyway."

Scarlet's always been a surprisingly straightforward guy--and now you can't help but turn your face downwards too, as hot as it is now. He reaches up to fiddle with a lock of short, purple hair. "I'll help you with the rest of this. Could you fetch the rest of the ingredients for the tomato sauce? The cheese, too--let's start grating that."

"R-Right. Thanks!" You open a few cupboards before you find the basil and the onions, and pluck a few cloves of garlic off the strand hanging off the wall. 

 

Soon enough, there's homemade tomato sauce is bubbling on the stove next to the pasta noodles. Your partner lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Hm? Why're you laughing, Scarlet?"

"It's just that now I'm kind of excited, too. When you eat, you've got this satisfied look on your face, you know?" Scarlet looks at you; a small, affectionate smile playing onto his features.

"Hey, is that supposed to mean I make weird faces when I eat good food?" You can feel kind of indignant, even though you're just standing over the sink, draining the pasta noodles. He can't see, but he can probably tell somehow, because he laughs a little more anyway. The sound of it is carefree.

"That's not it, though! It's just nice, is all." he replies; mirth lingering in the light tone of his voice.

"To watch me eat?"

"Sort of. You know what I mean."

You're smiling wide again. "I'm glad that you are, then."

Scarlet steps to stand a little closer to you--enough that your shoulders touch, before he dips the wooden spoon he'd been using to cook into the tomato sauce. "...Actually, this might need some more pepper," he mutters. Still smiling, you dutifully you reach for the pepper grinder, and somewhere in the back of your mind is a thought about how nice it is to feel used to working in the kitchen together.

 

"So why were you up so late to begin with?"

There's a mouthful of spaghetti in your mouth when he asks you this. You finish chewing and wash it down with some water--the cool, refereshing liquid sliding down your throat before you reply. "Um, nothing special, really. I was reading a series of books Caramia had lent to me, and before I realized it, I was hungry, and it was late."

"Really, now...? I can't say I'm surprised, but you should pay more attention--and no more sneaking into the kitchen alone late at night, okay?"

"Okaaaay." You pause for a moment, leaning on your elbow and looking out the window, when you realize... having a meal together like this, in the dark of the night, when everyone in the whole world is probably asleep--that kind of makes it feel like it's just you and Scarlet, in the whole wide world.

And something about that makes you stupid happy. It's a very romantic idea, but it's... nice. "It worked out all right in the end, though. Right?" 

You look back to Scarlet to see a light blush coloring his face. But doesn't turn his face away from you, like he did a little while ago or like he would way back when. There's a small, satisfied smile on his face as he replies, "I guess it did." 

 

You roll your sleeves up, do the dishes, and set them out to dry together--and when you part ways to sleep for the rest of the night, he's up (stunningly) early. Early enough to get all his chores done as per usual, to wake you before you oversleep as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to welovefandoms1 on tumblr. I wrote this because it was 12 midnight, and I was craving spaghetti (and also because I recently replayed Ozmafia. Scarlet is wonderful). I jokingly promised myself (and a friend) wwthat if I could write a 1.5k-long word fic about spaghetti, I'd go buy myself some. As the night dragged on, I slowly began to realize that I wasn't joking.
> 
> Alternative titles (courtesy of Twintaileddragon) include "Sauce Boss", "Someone's in the Kitchen with Scarlet (it's you!)", "Getting Saucy with Scarlet", and "Pasta Midnight".


End file.
